


It Wasn't Like He Wouldn't Die for Him

by GothamPeasant



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 10:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2728979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothamPeasant/pseuds/GothamPeasant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t that he didn’t want to reach out and grab his hand.<br/>It wasn’t like he didn’t want to kiss his lips.<br/>It wasn’t that he didn’t want to make him scream his name.<br/>It wasn’t as if he didn’t want a life with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Wasn't Like He Wouldn't Die for Him

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to reach out and grab his hand.

Because oh god, he did. He would have traded meals for a brief moment of skin upon skin. He would have given away his last pack of cigarettes to be able to reach out and grasp his fingers. To hold on to his hand like it was the only thing that was anchoring him to this world. He would run his fingers along each crevice and memorize where the each callous is. He would make sure their hands would never separate. Under the covers or around a table drinking, inspecting tents or in the middle of a firefight. He’d made sure that his hand burned in his so that no matter what happened it would be with a memory and a longing.

No, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to reach out and grab his hand.

* * *

 It wasn’t like he didn’t want to kiss his lips.

God no, he prayed every night that he could turn his head just right and bury his fingers in his hair so that he could pull and pull until he felt his lips against his own. Lips that would be chapped in the frigid winter air, and they’d burn as they’d graze along each other. But they would have kept going anyway. They would taste each other’s blood as their lips split and they would take it as a blessing to have been able to taste one another so thoroughly.

He would take his own lips and pull away gasping for breath and then kiss along the stubble lining his jaw until he reached that one spot on his neck that he know would make him cover his mouth so he didn’t make a sound as he gasped. He would run his teeth along his skin and then pull on his hair until his eyes clouded over and he was waiting for more.

Waiting for him.

Oh no, It wasn’t like he didn’t want to kiss his lips.

* * *

 It wasn’t that he didn’t want to make him scream his name.

He dreamed of the night that he could pin him underneath him. Holding him down and into the soft mattress he had made sure to get. One hand would be holding small arms up and against the pillows, and the other lightly peeling away the buttons on a white shirt.

He’d kiss him once on the lips lightly and then pull away, so that the man being held down would strain up to try to steal more. He’d moved slowly along his jaw until he hit the spot right underneath his ear and the man underneath him would moan and his hands would try to wiggle out of grasp that held his arms in place.

He’d hoist him up as the buttons came undone and the shirt would be discarded on the dusty floor and he’d take his own shirt off and press skin unto skin as they both went down onto the mattress once again. He would bit along his collar bone and the gasps would get louder and the straining more frantic until a hand reached down, over pants, and teased with a small stroke.

He’d make him beg.

Lips traveling down his naked torso until a tongue began to play with his nipple, and then teeth would graze his ribs and travel down to bite the soft tissue just underneath. The man pressed beneath him would tell him to hurry it up already and he’d smile listening to him beg as he brought his mouth to take over the spot his hand had occupied.

Arm’s no longer bound the man beneath him would bury his hands in his hair and tell him to stop being such a tease. He’d chuckle but take the advice. He’d undo the belt that held his pants and place and slowly bring them down past his ass. He’s take the hands that had been running down his torso and knead his ass until his hips lifted off the mattress and he swallowed him till his nose hit the pubic hair the dusted his skin.

The would be a cry that echoed his name.

No, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to make him scream his name.

* * *

 It wasn’t as if he didn’t want a life with him.

A small house in the suburbs and a small fence surround a freshly cut yard. A small puppy barking as a little girl threw a ball from one end of the yard either. He would sit there holding his hand and laughing as the puppy tumbled over right into the little girl’s arms.

He would kiss him lightly on the cheek before getting up and picking their little girl up in his arms, spinning her around until she cried “Daddy, Daddy! Look at what Papa’s doing!” And he’d smile larger than he thought he could as the “I see sweetheart” came and the puppy barked happily from underneath his feet.

They would stay out there on that Sunday evening and until the sun went down and he’d pick up a tired little girl carrying her into the house and tugging her underneath blankets in her own room. He’d kiss her forehead, and whisper “Sweet dreams, princess” before slowly backing out of the room and right into the arms of his husband.

“What do you say we turn in early tonight?” he’d grin before pushing him into their own room.

No, It wasn’t as if he didn’t want a life with him.

* * *

It wasn’t as if he wanted to love him.

He never wanted to stare longingly at a man when society told you it was wrong. It was sick. It was disgusting.

It wasn’t even someone he could ignore and move on with life. No, it was his best fucking friend. The person he’s follow till the ends of the Earth. The person he’d kill for and be killed in return. The person he would think about before he slept at night and the person he thought about as he opened his eyes and saw the sun peeking above the horizon. It was the person he thought about when he tried to pick well paying jobs and the person he thought about as he threw an arm over a girl’s shoulder.

He didn’t want to feel hate boiling in his guts as he saw him look at her with admiration. . He didn’t want to wake up in a cold sweat because he dreamt of him with her.

He hated that he wanted to push her away and yell in her face. He hated that he wanted to tell him a lie so he’s leave her be.

He didn’t want to be so happy to see him smile. He didn’t want to dream about watching the world burn because they didn’t see him like he could.

He didn’t want to have to stop himself from reaching out and grasping his hand. He didn’t want to have to stop himself from learning what his lips taste like. He didn’t want to cover his eyes and taste his skin. He didn’t want to make future plans he would never get.

Please God, he didn’t want to love this man. It hurt too goddamn much.

* * *

It wasn’t as if he wouldn’t have died for him.

Because he did.


End file.
